Icarus

Chapter 2
Ruffled Feathers

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Laid face down on his bed, Sirius bunched the covers of the pillowcase between his fingers and tried desperately not to cry. He'd been stuck here, at this Grimmauld Place, for three days. At this Parallel Grimmauld Place.

It wasn't so bad here, the company was good, the humour excellent, but Sirius didn't have much of a taste for that right now. The fourth book he'd raced through on parallel dimensions and time travel had said the same as the first three; it was a one way trip. One way.

Unless Professor Dumbledore did the impossible, it was looking more and more like he wouldn't be going anyway. That he was stuck here.

Forever. No, no.

He'd have to look in the secret room in Hogwarts, it'd have the answers. And Dumbledore had said he'd be able to enrol as a student.

So, everything would be fixed when he started school again.

.

Nodding fiercely to himself, Sirius sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to get his breathing under control, and got a mouthful of cotton instead.

Spluttering, the Gryffindor shot back, hands clawing at the mattress as he tried to stabilise himself. A deep, hoarse chuckle from inside his room had Sirius swinging around to stare at the source.

Black, his older self, was staring down at him with a sort of lost longing in his eyes and a tired smile on his face. He looked horrible, but Sirius suppose Azkaban did that to a person.

Shuddering at the thought, the fifteen year old lowered himself into a comfortable position at the head of the bed, leaving Black to the foot.

"What do you want?"

For the past three days, they'd pretty much left him alone. Lupin -he struggled, to call the man Remus when just a handful of days ago Remus had been a bright and cheerful teenager, like him- had always let him know when food was ready, but mainly, the duo had been waging war against the rest of the house.

Trying to clean it.

Sirius was personally of the opinion it'd never be clean. Not unless they knocked it down and built the place from scratch.

"Remus thought I should let you know that the Weasleys will be getting here today, they're a part of the Order and Harry's friends."

The Order of the Phoenix. It was only in whispers that he'd heard of it back at school, a secret organisation that was opposed to the Death Eaters. Considering that the Death Eaters had only started attacking people when his fourth year had begun, Sirius actually hadn't heard much more than rumours.

Even now, Lupin was under the impression that it was best Sirius not know anything that was going on, and as such, Sirius did not know anything that was going on.

Because Black, the traitor, had rolled over and shown his belly to the werewolf. Leaving Sirius almost completely in the dark.

"Dumbledore says it's best if we keep the fact you're really me between the four of us."

Frowning, Sirius ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the state of it. Yeah, he needed to take a shower. Maybe doing nothing but reading for three days had been a bad idea.

"Fine. But I don't have to like them." He wouldn't make friends with them. No one was going to replace James and Remus and Peter. He didn't need to make new friends because he was going back to his old ones.

Maybe if he believed in those words enough it's actually come true.

Grimacing, Sirius rolled out of bed, snatching up the only clothes that fit him. Some of Regulus' old stuff, that Black had actually had to wrestle away from Kreacher. As amusing as the sight had been, it didn't make him feel any better that he was wearing his brother's hand-me-downs. His dead brother's hand-me-downs.

Regardless of the fact Kreacher had kept the stuff so well cared for it looked new, it still made Sirius' skin itch.

Regulus had been a thirteen year old brat when he'd left, just finishing off his second year.

Now he was dead.

Clenching his fingers tighter into the fabric, Sirius stormed down the hallway, kicking open the door to the bathroom and slamming it shut behind him.

It wasn't until he'd stumbled to the shower, leaving a breadcrumb trail of clothing behind him, that the first tear fell.

Hastily twisting at the dials, Sirius hissed as the cold water shattered against his skin, eyes clenching shut until the pipes began to heat up. The water raced through his hair, the dark strands sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the nape of his neck as he pressed his face closer to the tiles, the cool ceramic hard against his skin. His fingers scrambled for purchase, body sliding down the side of the wall until he was curled up at the bottom of the shower basin, water pounding against the crest of his skull and grey eyes watching the liquid swirl about towards the drain.

His head hurt.

He wanted to go home.

To Hogwarts, his Hogwarts. With its stone walls and with the red and golds of Gryffindor. He wanted to watch the fire reflect in James' glasses, wanted to see Evans turn that fascinating shade of red whenever they were just getting started on teasing Snape. He wanted to watch Slughorn bumble and pander to all those pureblood, watch McGonagall rip into Malfoy for one transition or another. He wanted to watch Regulus walk by him without even so much as a second glance.

He wanted to go home.

.

It took Sirius thirty minutes to summon up the willpower to crawl back out of the shower, then another three to jump back in and achieve what he'd been aiming for the first time; washing his hair.

Now, walking out of the shower and snapping his hair up with one of those 'bobble' things he'd seen the girls use, Sirius ruffled the stubby little ponytail that sat atop his head, keeping the collar of his shirt dry. He really needed to go out and buy his own clothes, because as nice as Regulus' stuff was, it was not loungewear. Well, not for him anyway. It might be a Slytherin's loungewear, but it wasn't his kind of thing.

Hell, he was lucky there was anything in red at all in his little brother's wardrobe. Even if it was blood red instead of the preferred shade of Gryffindor.

He'd pulled on a pair of socks, but decided to forgo the idea of shoes. Walburga had never let him run around the house in just his socks, and now that she wasn't here to say otherwise, Sirius was going to do as he damn well pleased.

Racing down the steps, Sirius jumped down to the hallway floor, missing the last three stairs, and landed with a satisfying thump.

He froze in place though, when he remembered just what was in the hallway that would wake up should anyone make too much noise. Thankfully, his muffled feet seemed to not fall into this category, as Walburga's portrait remained shut, the moth-eaten curtains closed and thankfully, still enough to keep her ugly mug covered.

Scratching lazily at the side of his face, Sirius made his way into the dining room, pushing open the door and eyeing the two male sat inside as they went about eating their sandwiches.

As none of them were stupid enough to let Kreacher cook -poison laid at the end of that road, Sirius was sure of it- then they'd ended up stuck with whatever the two before he could rustle up, because even sandwich making was beyond Sirius. Which meant he'd eaten nothing but sandwiches for the past three days, excluding that one meal where Lupin had returned triumphantly with tinned soup from a muggle shop.

That'd been nice, not as good as the stuff Kreacher had cooked back in his old world, but sure beat sandwiches.

"Ah, good morning Sirius. Padfoot and I were just discussing where we're gonna put the Weasleys-"

"Not with me." His room was his own. He was not sharing it with people he didn't know. Hell, he'd barely share it with people he did know, because they were both sat up to this table and they were older than him. That and he knew exactly what Marauders did to the first person to fall asleep at a sleepover.

No way, no how.

Lupin blinked, green eyes that were so very wrong, wide and startled before slowly nodding his head.

"Okay, that's fine. There's enough rooms for them to sleep elsewhere, even if they have to bunk up."

Across from him, Black snorted into his coffee, eyes narrowed and staring down into the liquid as dark as his name.

"Yeah, they're probably used to it."

"Sirius-"

"No, I was talking about the dorms at Hogwarts! And I thought you said we should call me Padfoot, so we don't get mixed up with little me." Black waved a casual hand towards Sirius, who straightened at the odd nickname.

"Padfoot?"

"Completed the Animagus transformation, and we all threw out names. James tried Grimm, but Padfoot here was determined to not have something so normal."

Padfoot and Grimm. Both names sounded okay, but Sirius could see why he'd have gone for the first option.

Option one was a name the Black family would never have given to a mutt, never mind an Animagus form. Whereas, if it wasn't for the star thing, Sirius could honestly see Walburga going for a name like Grimm. Grimm Black.

Snorting lowly to himself, Sirius plucked up the sandwich, making a disgusted face and began pulling out the pickles.

"What, you don't like pickles?" Black stared at him with a funny frown on his face before looking down at his own sandwich, as if he couldn't imagine his food without them.

"No, bloody awful things."

"Looks like that's another difference. Sirius, maybe when you complete the Animagus transformation you could go with the name Grimm?"

He was about to object, but then paused. Because while there was a fifty-fifty chance Walburga might have liked the name, James certainly did. He'd been the one to suggest it.

So, in homage to his friends, he would carry that name until he returned.

"Fine, but you've got to help me finish it up before summer."

Black cracked a smile at that, winking and no longer looking as tired as he had before.

There, at least Sirius wouldn't be wasting his time here.

.

The Weasley's arrived by floo, loud and vibrant.

Sirius had been crouched at the very top of the stairs, staring down at them from around the worn wood of the banister. His hands had been curled around the individual bars, the point where they grooved out before smoothing back down again, the perfect width to fit within his palms. They were still smooth to the touch, even if they'd been left to the mercy of whatever darkness was stalking the house for the past ten years.

Hell, it still might be there, if the smarter ones had managed to escape Black and Lupin's mad cleaning spree. It wouldn't surprise him if that'd happened in all honest.

Grip tightening in a sporadic manner, Sirius pressed his forehead against the wood, breathing in the scents of his childhood home. Dust being the most prevailing, with that dusky scent that'd haunted most of his short life. His sock clad feet slide across the floorboard with an enviable ease his shoes would have never managed, what he wouldn't have given to test out his socked feet on the wood back when it was highly polished. Now that would have been fun.

Looking over the edge as the noise came closer to the hallway, Sirius found himself smirking viciously when the noise awoke the sleeping dragon.

It was nice to see Walburga's rage directed at someone other than himself, even if it was only because these idiots had thought to be too noisy walking through the hallway. He could hear Black swear, no doubt getting ready to do battle with the curtains, when Lupin's voice echoed up the stairwell.

"Sirius! Come down here and meet the Weasleys!"

That was right, their cover story.

Snarling under his breath, Sirius got to his feet, adjusting the collar of his shirt before popping another button, leaving the two uppermost ones loose and giving him room to breathe.

He shouldn't need a cover story, shouldn't need to be introduced to these people. He needed them to find him a way back home, not get distracted with whatever it was they were doing.

Sirius had stopped paying attention really when he'd learnt they couldn't focus all their efforts on his significantly big problem.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, Sirius slouched forwards slightly before on second thoughts, pulling his hair free of its measly ponytail. It'd dried into its usual mess of half curls, framing his face wonderfully and best of all, with little to no effort on his part. He could still here James bitching about it as he would wrestle a brush through his own hair.

Patting the top part down, just to make sure nothing had fallen on the wrong side and was stupidly standing up, Sirius took another jump from the stairs to the hallway floor, sticking the landing perfectly.

The barrage of people had moved into the kitchen, which still stood as the only room in the house that was without a doubt, hundred percent free of dark objects and curses. Dumbledore approved even.

Not even the landing was done, what with the grandfather clock that threw out gears like ninja stars if you didn't walk up to it with the right patter of footsteps.

In fact, so used to this item, both himself and Black and walked right by it without a problem, only for Lupin to squeal as he was nearly skewered.

They may have laughed. A tiny bit.

Okay, a lot.

Did it matter? None of them had figured out how to stop it yet and the clock was stuck to the floor in the same way Walburga's portrait was attached to the wall. It would not be moved.

.

Sneaking past said portrait, Sirius strolled into the kitchen with as much cool charm as he could muster, as if strangers weren't invading the parallel version of his home twenty years in the future. All was well with the world.

Conversation at the table stopped instantly, face turning around to full out gawk at him. He counted four ginger haired children, two close to his own age, and then a pair of twins with surprise on their face and mischief in their eyes. Fellow pranksters? Sirius would know that look anywhere.

"Oh yeah, my son," Black mused with a completely fake causal grin, one that suggested he was speaking of the weather outside being wonderful instead of the blatant downpour it actually was, "Sirius Regulus Black. The fourth."

"Yes, because you just couldn't miss 'the fourth' out," Lupin grumbled from beside Black, but he too was smiling. Softer than what Remus would have done, clearly far more tired than he'd ever allow his friend to become, but smiling all the same.

"A Mini-Marauder!" The twin boys threw their arms out and were on him before Sirius could decide which one to start fending off first. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him and lifting him off his feet, Sirius almost squawking in surprise at the sudden motion.

As the released him, Sirius stepped back and was unsurprised to see his skin had now taken on the texture of scales instead of the human skin he was so used to seeing.

The Weasley twins however, had not gotten out of that scot free. Sirius had kept his splatballs on him at all times, and now the both of them were sporting two brilliant pink patches that covered almost all of their fronts.

"Look Fred, an heir!"

"Say it isn't so Mr Padfoot!"

They both whirled around to look at Black and Sirius grimaced, flexing his scaly fingers towards Lupin's direction in a clear silent plea for help. So maybe the twins weren't too bad, pranksters that they were. Which was even more reason for him to not let them into his room.

In fact, he was rigging that door tonight.

"Oh you boys, honestly!"

A plump witch, with fiery red hair pushed her way between the two boys and Sirius once again found himself caged in by another's arms, only this time, it was in a crushing embrace.

"It's very nice to meet you dear, I see you father hasn't been feeding you right, much too skinny, I'll get started on dinner right away. Call me Molly."

Jaw clenching, Sirius stepped back and out of Molly Weasley's arms, fists tightening. He could feel his skin whine under the pressure of his blunt fingernails, threatening to puncture.

Instead, he twisted about on his feet, storming out of the room.

Black wasn't his father, he'd been getting fed just fine at Hogwarts until he'd been dropped here. He didn't need the Weasley family storming into the house that'd never quite been his home, taking over everything as they were. He didn't want whatever food she'd make or whatever sandwiches Lupin could scrap together, he wanted house-elf cooked food.

He wanted to see James and Remus and Peter on the last day of school and get a promise from them to keep writing him.

He wanted to get into a screaming match with Walburga about going into muggle London.

He didn't want any dinner cooked by Molly Weasley and he didn't want Regulus' old clothes and he didn't want Black and Lupin's pitying gaze.

.

Slamming the door to his bedroom shut as loud as he possibly could and paying no mind to the portraits that started screaming, Sirius pulled his wand out of his pocket and went about warding it as best he could, from pranks to shock wards, damn the ministry ban. It's not like his bloody wand would be registered with them here.

Throwing himself onto the bed, Sirius pressed his face into the pillow and screamed into it for all it was worth.

.

He wanted to go home.

Lookie lookie, I'm writing more for this! I want to get at least five chapters out on this before I go back to updating other stories, but who knows?FemHarryxBucky might yet drag me back under.

Tsume
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